For the Record
by Ben Barrett
Summary: Stan talks about how straight he and Kyle are.  No slash.  Oneshot.


**A Note From Ben: Well, it's been a very long time since I've posted anything, hasn't it? I have good news for you, though. All of my projects will be continued, including ICBINB, which a lot of people seem to enjoy. This particular story, however, is a little different from what I normally write. Most of you know I'm not against Style. Hell, I barely write anything else. However, every now and then, I like to turn the tables and write things from the _opposite_ point of view. I hope you enjoy it.**

**For the Record  
**by Ben Barrett

Hi there. My name is Stan and I have a little story to tell you, if you have a minute to listen. If you can't spare me a few moments of your time, or just won't, well, hell I understand. I won't even hold it against you. Maybe you're not into these types of things; maybe something like Sailor Moon or some other lousy shit like that is more your cup of tea (though if such is the case, I pray that whatever Forces control the universe someday bless you with _taste_).

Those of you who are still with me, welcome. My story actually begins sixteen years ago, when I was nine years old. For all of you math wizards out there, that makes me twenty-five now, though my birthday is only months away. That was the year of my great falling out with my best friend, Kyle Broflovski. Some of you may recognize the name; he's a very successful author these days, and a lot of his books have been made into movies.

It's interesting to think back on my friendship with Kyle. God, we haven't spoken in years. We used to be damn close, though. We were so close, in fact, that people began to wonder just _how_ intimate our friendship really was. Lots of people, some of the adult in town as well as our friends included, began to talk about our sexuality. Never mind that we were still very young boys who hadn't even hit puberty yet; the only thought on everyone's minds was whether we were blowing each other or not.

I'd like to state for the record that I am not, nor have I ever been, gay. I was the star quarterback for the South Park Cows, for God's sake! I had a girlfriend at the tender age of eight who was my whole world for over a year. I nearly killed myself several times trying to impress her, including an incident involving an explosion and my search for the elusive clitoris. I don't know how anyone could have made any mistakes about my orientation, really. I mean, come _on_! You know, since we're listing everything that's straight about me, I want you to visualize a big chart labeled "THINGS ABOUT STAN THAT AREN'T GAY" in big, bold letters. Feel free to add things to it as we go along.

You know what pisses me off the most about all that fagbag shit? It was precisely what drove a wedge between Kyle and I and eventually destroyed our friendship. Neither of us had anything against gays or lesbians and, to the best of my knowledge, still don't. Hell, I've known some really grade gay people; Big Gay Al and Mister Slave are two people at the top of that list, and I keep in touch with them to _this day_. However, prejudice and malice aside, it didn't change the fact that people were talking about us as if we were boofing each other. In fact, it got to the point where any time we'd walk anywhere together, even if it was just to get some ice cream or something, people would start giving us looks or whispering to each other.

Even our parents started keeping a closer eye on us and treating us like a couple of perverts. As hard as that is to believe, we were the children of two small town families and people in places as small as South Park have a tendency not only to gossip, but to be closed-minded asswipes as well. Whenever we'd visit each other, whether it was to work on a school project or to play video games, someone was always keeping a close eye on our activity. We were never left in the same room for more than a few moments at any given time. And sleepovers? Forget about that! Not with the two of us being _so_ hot for each other.

We tried defending ourselves lots of times, though we realized it only made us look more guilty. I mean, if a person stands up and declares to a crowded room that they are not, in fact, gay, are you going to believe them or become more convinced of their sexuality? The more we told people that we weren't dating, that we were both as straight as boards, the less they believed us.

Eventually, we reached a difficult decision. People were suspicious of our relationship because we spent so much time together, so the only logical thing to do was take a rest from each other for awhile. We'd go off, hang out with some of our other friends, let the situation blow over, and then go back to our normal routine. This seemed to work at first; I didn't get nearly as many gay cracks from the other guys and the "you're such a homo" looks stopped entirely. I considered this a good thing and was actually planning to start hanging out with Kyle again when things got worse. The funny looks and comments had gone away, sure, but they had been replaced by looks of sympathy as well as pats on the back that were supposed to be comforting.

Yeah, you probably hit the nail right on the head. People saw us apart and started chattering about our "unfortunate break-up". Our time apart hadn't convinced anyone of our heterosexuality; it had only made them think that we'd gotten into a fight! When Kyle found out, he hit the ceiling. I don't recall ever seeing him that mad, not before that or since. He went on a rampage in his bedroom and began to smash everything he could reach, and that included my nose. It took me ten minutes to wrestle my friend to the ground and hold him there. He finally did settle down enough for me to release him, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that things would never be the same between us again.

"Sorry, Stan," he told me, as we sat on the floor panting.

"Oh, it'll heal soon enough," I said, holding a tissue to my nose that I had retrieved from a Kleenex box amid the rubble.

"I'm not talking about your fucking nose," he said, "though I am sorry about that, too. I just don't think we should...be friends...anymore. I think it would be best if we _stayed_ apart."

"Kyle, I..."

"No, Stan," he stated firmly. "I've made my decision on this. I'm tired of being looked at like a freak. I'm tired of people thinking we're...together. The only way to put an end to it is to...put an end to _this_."

I felt my heart shatter into a thousand pieces. I'd just lost the person who meant the most to me, and it hurt like hell. I could feel the tears coming on as my composure crumbled.

"But you're my best friend," I pleaded.

"You're my best friend, too," he said, not unkindly, "but that's not enough. We have images to uphold. How can you be the star athlete, the guy destined to get laid by the time he's thirteen, if everyone thinks we're an item? How am I supposed to present myself as a good, obedient, orthodox, Jewish boy if it looks like I'm committing the worst crime someone in my faith could commit?"

So it was that our life-long friendship came to an abrupt and unhappy end. We spent a great deal of time and energy avoiding each other for the next couple of years. Oh, we would wave to each other in the hallways, sure, and every now and then we'd even mutter a greeting, but nothing more than that. If we were ever paired up for school projects, we always traded partners or worked as quickly and professionally as we could. If we happened to bump into each other at the playground, we'd keep to opposite ends.

As the years passed, we didn't even have to try to give each other space anymore. We gradually drifted apart and became separate people. Kyle joined the debate and chess teams in high school and ended up with a schedule full of AP classes. I, on the other hand, ended up in just about every athletic division the school had to offer. We ultimately became a couple of passing faces in the hallway, two people who barely recognized each other and had absolutely _nothing_ in common.

It wasn't until years later, as I was digging through a box of old photos and keepsakes, that I came across the one of Kyle and I as kids. We had our arms over each others' shoulders, and we looked so very happy. There was a light in our eyes that I never saw in Kyle again, nor in myself when I happened to glance into the mirror. The one thing in our lives which brought us such happiness had been destroyed by people who had way too much time to gossip on their hands. It was taken from us like a lollipop being snatched from a content baby.

I catch glimpses of Kyle every now and then, on TV or on the jackets of his books. I hear he's doing pretty well for himself. He's got a nice Jewish wife and two kids who look just like him, and they spend most of their time in Nantucket in a $500,000 home. I'm honestly happy for him. I don't begrudge him his happy life and I don't begrudge him the decision he made all those years ago.

It wasn't really his fault our friendship had to end like that.

No, it was yours. It was the fault of people like _you_, who continue to talk about how gay we are, how in love we are. It was people like you who destroyed us, really, and I have a serious problem with that. So, if you've stuck with me this far, I'm very happy, for now I get to tell you myself how angry I am. I will never be able to find any forgiveness in my soul for you. Damn you all.

_**Fin.**_


End file.
